Topsy-Turvy

Wake up sleepy

eye-balls

blink-blink and I

lurch to my

feet placing them on

morning’s chill

hurrying along

a laminated floor

before new

icicle toes fall off.

A computer stroke

easily changes

the tempo-

“lithe as a panther

he crossed the floor”

sounds more

warming.

Breakfast is calling

one more time-

oh for such a great wife.